Ignored
by Madame Wilhelmina
Summary: a girl walked alone in the poring,freezing rain. Nobody cared. Or so she thought. rated pg13 for cursing and dark thematic elements. COMPLETE.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: Lizzie MGuire is owned by Disney. I own only my stories.  
  
Ignored  
  
A girl walked alone in the pooring, freezing rain. It was late at night and she was nowhere near home. That was okay nobody cared. She was about 15 mabye 16. She was thin and pretty with long, blonde hair and blue eyes. She was soaking wet and looked like she might have been crying earlier. People never wanted to be her friend. No boy ever wanted to date her. She seemed to think that it didn't matter. If she were to run away or worse to kill herself nobody would care. She was wrong though. Somebody would care. He always had. He always would.  
  
Her father and brother had both died in a horrible car crash when she was 14. Her mother didn't seem to care though. When she wasn't working she was hanging around with another one of her many boyfriends. She had so many her daughter couldn't keep count they seemed to be somebody different every day. Her mother was never home and when she was she seemed to always be to busy for her daughter even to just sit down and talk.  
  
As for school the girl had no chance of ever becoming popular. People ignored her including her teachers. If she raised her hand they would ignore her. When it was time for gym she would never get picked. It wasn't that she was bad at sports no she was actually pretty good at sports. They just didn't notice her. Every time they finished picking teams and she was once again excluded she would tell the team captains and they would say that they were sorry they just didn't notice her as always. Se had no friends. No parties, no dances, no dates. No anything.  
  
She used to cry herself to sleep every night hating herself. She no longer did that though instead she cut. She cut her arms, her legs, her hands and feet. She wore long, baggy jeans and shirts to cover the horrible scars she left after cutting herself. She would use whatever she could get her hands on a knife, a razor, or even just a pair of scizzors. She once even tried to cut her wrists but unfortunately didn't do it right. The shirt she wore the next day actually showed her cut up wrists and still nobody noticed. Not even the teachers said anything. He noticed though. He didn't say anything though he knew he should have.  
  
She stopped in front of the mirror one day and took a good look at her reflection. Why can't I be pretty or popular like other girls. I am an ugly, stupid, untalented, friendless, dateless nobody. I don't even have one friend. My mother my only living family dosen't even care. She pays no attention to my just like everyone else. I know why to it's because I'm a waste. I hate myself. "Do you hear my",she screamed at the mirror. "I hate you." "But it's okay," she continued yelling. "You can hate yourself all you want no one cares about you Lizzie MGuire."  
  
Now hours later she was walking. Her destination? The bridge two towns away from the town she lived in. She finally made it to the bridge. She walked towards the edge that overlooked the river. Most likely the fall wouldn't kill her however the large, sharp rocks at the bottom of the river would most definitely guarantee a slow painful death just what she felt that she deserved. She climbed over the edge holding on to the edge tightly. She was just about to loosen her grip and throw herself into the water when suddenly someone put a hand on her shoulder she turned around to see... 


	2. Flashback: The Funeral

I've decided to go in a whole different direction with the story. So this chapter and possibly the next few chapters is going to be just one big flashback. By the way sorry I haven't updated in a while. I've been busy.  
  
Flashback: The funeral.  
  
Lizzie stood in front of her mirror staring sadly at her reflection. She was just about to go to her father and brothers funeral. Some friggen stupid freshly licensed sixteen year old driver was challenged to a car race by an enemy from school and being the idiot he was he accepted the challenge. Mr. MGuire had just picked up Matt from soccer practice when suddenly he came by speeding and crashed right into them. Mr. MGuire died instantly but Matt died shortly after arriving at the hospital. The kid didn't die but he now held the burden of being responsible for the death of Mr. MGuire, Matt, and two out of three of his friends in the car putting the third one permenately in a wheelchair.  
  
Lizzie sighed unhappily. She was wearing a long black dress, a pair of black stockings and flat black shoes. She had black eye shadow and lipstick and had a ton of powder on her face. She looked pale and gaunt. She had her hair pulled back into a ponytail with a black srunchie. She looked into the mirror once more careful to avoid eye contact. Okay, she thought. I'm ready. Taking a deep breath she walked out of the room  
  
At the funeral Lizzie saw tons of friends, classmates and teachers of Matt. She saw friends and coworkers of her father. Not much family though both of Lizzie's parents were only children and came from small family's so other than cousin ReeRee and Lizzie's mother's parents (her fathers were both dead) she had no other realitives. Lizzie's mother had friends who were there and coworkers as well. Lizzie had no one.  
  
To think that Lizzie was unhappy and thought she was a loser in middle school. Well at least then Lizzie had her best friends Gordo and Miranda. Miranda however choose a different route after high school started. A lot of Miranda's problems are probably due to her parents recent divorce and sudden ignorance toward her lately. Being that her home life was less than satisfying she was completely determined to make a name for herself in high school. She had plenty of names for herself too. She had a reputation for being a frickin drug infested cheap slut who would have sex with anyone for money to by drugs. Even though Lizzie never called her any horrible names or spread any rumors about her she turned against Lizzie. She used Lizzie's kindness as a way to get secrets at her so others would accept her and make fun of Lizzie instead.  
  
Lizzie still feels all the emotional pain. She remembers everything. Every name. Every joke. Every rumor all mostly from one diary. One diary that Miranda being the evil bitch she was toke. It was a huge diary and still had many pages left before it was done. It already had many pages written on. Pages written on from as early as the seventh grade. Every thought, emotion, or feeling Lizzie had every thing that happened in her life went into the open for everyone to see. It was no longer personal everybody knew her business. Lizzie was tortured all year.  
  
Lizzie looked around. Of course nobody from school is going to come. She thought as she looked around. She didn't see anybody. He was there though. Sitting in one of the back rows between his parents. She didn't see him though. She wasn't looking hard enough. The ceremony started soon after that. It was a quick ceremony the priest came up to talk and family and friends gave speeches about Matt and Mr. McGuire and how much they cared about them and would miss them. Lizzie didn't give a speech though. She just didn't know what to say.  
  
After the burial once everyone had left Lizzie came back and stared at the graves. She thought she was alone. She didn't see him standing behind her watching her hold in tears. She turned and walked away not even noticing that he was still staring at her sadly. She didn't know how much he cared for her and how much he wanted to help her. She never knew.  
  
Lizzie didn't know what she had done to deserve this. She was a good daughter, student, friend, sister, and person in general. She didn't know what she did to deserve having her father and brother taken away from her and to have her best friend turn on her and destroy her reputation all in the same year. To think that last year when she was in the eighth grade her whole family was alive and she had friends who cared about her.  
  
Well she no longer had that. Her brother and father were both dead and she no longer had any friends. She arrived home late at night. Her mother was already asleep. Lizzie wondered if her mom had even noticed that she was gone. She doubted it. Her mom had been paying less and less attention to her lately. Lizzie went up to her room. She sat on her pain. She suddenly started crying hard. She curled herself up into a ball and cried herself to sleep. 


	3. Flahback: High Shool Hell

Flashback: High School Hell  
  
Lizzie was dreaming. In her dream she saw a bridge. She saw a girl who looked familiar like she had seen her before standing on the edge of it. The girl looked like she was about to jump off the bridge. Suddenly a loud ringing noise interrupted the dream. Lizzie stirred slightly still only half awake. She reached over and turned off her alarm. She got out of bed. She pulled on some clothes and a pair of sneakers. She pulled her long blonde hair into a messy ponytail. She didn't even bother to put on any make-up or brush her hair. She didn't add any accessories to the outfit. She just didn't seem to care much anymore.  
  
Her mother had already left for work by the time she got up. She made herself a quick breakfast, brushed her teeth and left for school somewhere she desperately didn't want to go. Things had quieted down in the school about Lizzie. Not much though. Every day Kate, Claire and Miranda made it their goal to torture Lizzie until she actually cried. Today was no exception.  
  
"Hi Lizzie," Miranda said in a sweet syrupy tone that Lizzie was very familiar to. She smiled at her. "How are you?" Lizzie didn't answer. "So," she continued. "You heard about Kate's party." "It's going to be wild." "Kate's mom is going to be out of town." "Too bad you can't come." "Nobody want's you there because your too much of a loser." "Oh well bye." She smiled the same sweet smile at Lizzie then turned and dissepeared down the hall to find her new friends Kate and Claire.  
  
Unfortunatly that was nothing next to some of the horrible names she used to call Lizzie. She had gotten better since she first turned on Lizzie. The names that she used to call her the things she did to Lizzie just to get snobby bitches like Kate and Claire to like and accept her still stung Lizzie hard. But she never let Miranda know of course. She wouldn't feel bad for Lizzie she would feel better. She now hated Lizzie and liked causing her emotional pain. Everyone seemed to.  
  
Lizzie opened her locker and pulled out her books for her first period class. She closed the locker and started for class. All through class two boys sitting in the back of the room got a kick out of throwing crumpled up balls of paper at her and hitting her with them. They drove her nuts all period. The rest of the day wasn't much better. Lizzie sat alone at lunch and was made fun of during study hall. You'd think that by the end of the school day she'd be dying to go home so she won't have to deal with all the kids who love to torment her. No she dosen't want to go home either. I mean why should she want to go home so she can be ignored by her mother.  
  
But of course the day ended. As Lizzie started home it began to rain first lightly then heavily. By the time Lizzie got home she was soaking wet. She took off her wet clothes and put on some dry clothes. She settled down on her couch remote control in hand to watch some T.V. halfway through one of her favorite shows the phone rang. Lizzie got up and walked into the kitchen to answer the phone. "Hello," she said. Suddenly the person hung up. Angry Lizzie slammed the phone down on the hook. She thought that it was Miranda or Kate or someone else from school teasing her. She didn't know that he was calling to tell her how he felt. As soon as he heard her voice he got scared and hung up the phone. He could never tell her how he felt.  
  
Lizzie shut the phone off. She was in no mood to deal with snotty bitches who have nothing better to do then tease her. She finished watching the show and then ordered a pizza for dinner. After dinner was done Lizzie cleaned up the kitchen and went to bed. She wasn't tired she just wanted to get away from it all. Sleep was such a good escape.  
  
She felt that she had a lot to escape. Every day waking up to a empty house then going to that high school. She didn't call it Hillridge High School. She called it High School Hell. Because that's what it was like going there every day. It was High School Hell. She couldn't wait for summer vacation so she could get away from that school. Once summer vacation came she could sit in the house and watch T.V sleep till noon and eat junk food. No need to stress over classes, teachers, and students. No need to get upset over being teased or over not having a social life. She wouldn't have to stress or get upset over anything.  
  
Unfourtunatly summer vacation was months away. She had many more hellish school days before she was done. To make matters worse she was only a freshman. She had three more years after this one. Three more years of suffering after this one for Lizzie. She really hated her life. She hated her life and everything and everyone in it. It was like hell every single day and in Lizzie's opinion it always would be for the rest of her life. 


	4. Flasback:Bloodly Tears

Flashback: Bloody Tears. From Lizzie's point of view.  
  
After another long horrible day at school I had arrived home upset as usual. That Miranda is such a bitch. She's worse than Kate or Claire at times. Its almost scary to think that I used to be best friends with her. That I used to confide in her about everything. Tell her all my most private secrets. Now I can't tell her anything. I no longer have any friends and I don't have any family to talk to about my unhappiness. I don't even keep a diary anymore since Miranda stole my last one in order to crash my reputation. Anything that bothers me I keep bottled up inside.  
  
I feel like every time my mother ignores me or someone at school bothers me that I'm being eaten. Like my insides are slowly being eaten. Being eaten like this feels painful. Very painful. Not physically but emotionally. I actually wish that the pain was physical. Because physical pain hurts for a little while. It hurts or burns or even stings. Sometimes it bleeds and leaves a mark or a bruise or a scar. But eventually the pain going away. It stops bleeding and usually the mark, bruise, or scar will eventually fade away. But emotional pain doesn't go away that easily. It stays inside of you and eats at you forever.  
  
At least mine does, I thought as I climbed the steps to my bedroom. I was trying hard to hold in my tears. My tears of pain. I opened my bedroom door and sat down on my bed. I looked at the floor still trying to hold in my tears. Suddenly I bursted into hysterical tears. I cried into my pillow. I cried for at least a half hour. I finally ran out of tears even though I still felt like crying. I got up and walked over to my bedroom mirror. I hated the person I saw in that mirror. I thought that she was the ugliest, stupidest, most worthless person ever. I couldn't believe that the person in the mirror, the person who was staring unhappily back at me was me.  
  
I walked away from the mirror tired of looking at her. She was just getting me more upset than I already was. I didn't need to get more upset. I walked into the bathroom and started to run myself a bath. I was rummaging around the linen closet looking for shampoo when suddenly being as stupid and clumsy as I am I knocked over one of the middle shelves. I was picking up the stuff that had fallen off the shelf when I noticed it. The shiny, new, never used razor. I had heard somewhere that cutting sometimes releases emotional pain that a person feels. Being at the condition that I was in I was willing to try anything to release the emotional pain that I was feeling. I was afraid that if I cut my arm though that someone would see the cut. So instead I rolled up my jeans and cut my leg.  
  
I sighed in relief as I felt blood begin to leak slowly out of my leg. It was a small cut hardly visible but even a small cut like that felt really really good. It felt like the bleeding I was doing was somehow a substitute for the crying I did. The tears that I cried were bloody instead of watery and they leaked from the leg instead of from the eyes. When I let the bloody tears flow from my small cuts I felt pain rush quickly out of me. It rushed out of me much quicker then it would have if I cried it out the way most people do. I suddenly felt calm relaxed even. I felt better than I had in a long time. I put the razor to my leg and pressed in harder though this time. The blood flowed much more quickly than it had before with the first cut.  
  
I cleaned up both cuts than took my bath and headed back to my room to get ready for bed. I felt great but in a different way than I was used to feeling great in. I had my own little way of releasing pain. My own little secret way. It was so much quicker and easier than crying or getting angry. It released so much pain and torment that I had been feeling for so very long. It released it in the two small simple cuts. Cuts that I was sure that I could easily hide. It wasn't like if I was hiding an eating disorder or something. It would be very dangerous to do that. All I was doing was giving myself a little cut to make the pain stop. A few little cuts aren't going to kill me. In my opinion those few cuts were actually heping me feel better.  
  
I couldn't even believe that cutting is made out to be such a huge deal. I don't get the big fuss over it. I shouldn't worry over it because there are people out there who are abusing their bodies much worse than I'm abusing mine. They are starving their bodies or throwing up their food in order to look skinny. They are doing drugs or smoking cigarettes. I am eating normal meals and I'm not throwing up my food after I eat it. I'm not on drugs or smoking cigarettes so why should I worry about it. People in this world are so friggen neurotic. They worry over the littlest or stupidest of things things that I hardly see as a problem.  
  
I went to my bedroom and got changed into one my favorite nightgowns. I went back into the bathroom where I brushed my teeth, washed my face and went back to my bedroom. I opened my top night table drawer and looked at the used razor that I had just put in it when I came in to get changed. It was the one that I had used to cut my leg earlier. I smiled in relief as I closed the drawer. Who knew that something like one or two razor cuts could bring so much relief. That it could make me feel calm and happy. That it could make the tears stop flowing from my eyes. That the anger that I had could quickly vanish. That for the very first time in months I could feel pain drift right out of me leaving me completely painless.  
  
I fell asleep smiling that night feeling relaxed and happy. Feeling a wonderful, warm hearted feeling deep inside of me something that I couldn't feel when I went to sleep yesterday night or the night before that or any night for months now. There was a better feeling that I could now feel every single night right before I went to sleep. The feeling of actual relief inside of me. The feeling that I was emotionally ok. That was one of the greatest most comforting feelings that I have ever felt inside of me before. I was going to be happier tomorrow no matter what Miranda or Kate or anyone else felt of me. I was going to be happy because I felt that for once I was in control of something in my life more specifically of my thoughts and emotions.  
  
It took me a very long time to realize that I wasn't in control of anything at all in my life, especially not of my thoughts and emotions. I haven't been in such a long time. Unfortunately by the time I actually realized that I wasn't in control of them it was much too late to tell anybody about it. 


	5. Flashback: Hiding pain

Thanks for the reviews. All good so far.

Flashback: Hiding pain. (Still in Lizzie's pov)

As time went on people started to forget about the diary. They started to forget about all the rumors spread because of it. Miranda, Kate and Claire gave up on torturing me and found new targets. Over the months people began to pay less and less attention to me. Even my teachers but that's probably because I hardly ever raise my hand in class.

I still hurt so much though. I mean my brother and father are gone and instead of my mother talking to me about it and trying to spend time with me she does the exact opposite. She almost never talks to me and spends absolutely no time with me. She goes to work and then spends the night with one of her new boyfriends at his house or something. She goes through more boyfriends than most teenagers that I know.

I'm not ok though. I hate thinking about it but I know that I'm not. I feel better now that I've started cutting but it does make me feel dirty though. I have a dirty little secret. But even though I try hard to convince myself that I can't die from cutting the way I can from drugs or an eating disorder I still know that it's wrong. I know that it's not considered normal to cut but it's easy to hide so I think why should I care. It's not like I'm going to tell anybody about it. If I told somebody about it and they asked me why I did it and I told them the truth that I do it because it feels good they would probably think that I'm crazy or something. Sometimes I wonder if I am crazy.

I know that I definitely stand out fashion wise in my school. I mean I live in California where its always hot even in the winter. While other girls go to school wearing shorts, short skirts, short sleeved shirts, tank tops and sandals to school I wear baggy long sleeved shirts, long Jeans and sneakers to school even in 100 degrees weather. I mean even the boys at my school wear less clothes than I do.

I walk around and that feeling that feeling that I mentioned about being eaten is still there and its so strong. It goes away for awhile right after I cut but it always comes back. I try not to think about it but I can't. The pain it causes is too much. I can't make it go away. It comes back after the cutting but this time its worse. Much worse. I feel like I can't take much more of it.

I try to hide my pain by first letting it out with every cut then by wearing long, baggy clothes to cover up the cuts. I have months worth of cuts all over my arms and legs. Some of the cuts will fade but others are more permanent. They are deep horrible scars that will never go away. Those scars are just like my pain they are something that I can't get rid of. That will haunt me till my death.

I felt so good right after I first started cutting myself maybe dirty but good because it was my own little release. But now I'm not so sure. I'm afraid that if I keep cutting that one day I'm going to lose control of it and of my emotions. I'm afraid that I'm going to cut open a wrist instead of a arm or leg. I'm afraid that it might be too late by then I already feel like my problem is getting out of hand. I'm cutting more than ever and the cuts keep getting deeper. Every cut takes away a smaller amount of pain than the one before it did. I'm still trying to convince myself that the cuts are helping when I think that I know deep down inside that their not.

I wish that I would wake up one day and this would all be a horrible nightmare. That my whole family will be alive and happy and that I will have the same friends and everything. But most of all that this painful horrible feeling that's been eating at me will just go away forever.

Of course that doesn't happen. Every day I wake up to an empty house so I can get ready to go to school so that I can eat lunch on my own and walk around with nobody to talk to or hang around with. Then I can come home to an empty house. I can escape for a little while by watching TV and munching on snacks. Then I could do my homework and then get ready for bed. But of course along the course of the day I will give myself just a few more cuts to add to my large collection. And that fulfills my day.

I really am getting tired of it. I'm tired of being ignored; I'm tired of feeling what I'm feeling. I'm tired of trying to make my problems go away with cuts no matter how good the cuts make me feel the good feeling goes away shortly afterwards. I'm tired of having to wear long baggy clothes to cover those cuts. I'm tired of hiding my emotions. Of hiding my pain.


	6. Flashback: Lose Control

This is probably going to be the last flashback chapter but I'm not definitely sure on that but oh well thanks for the reviews keep r and r.

Flashback: Losing Control (Lizzie's pov)

How could a problem that you think is so small turn out to be so large. How could a few simple cuts turn into a whole horrible life-threatening situation. But most of all how could I have been so wrong to actually think that I was in control of something that I never have had control of.

At least I used to be. But I lost control. I had been for awhile but whatever control that I had over myself that was still left disappeared the second that I pushed that razor into my wrist but I'm so friggen stupid I couldn't even do that right. Well now I have to figure out how to cover my cut up wrists. People hardly pay any attention to me anymore but still I'm sure that somebody at least a teacher or something will notice my wrist. I have to hide it.

I finally found a shirt that covered most of my wrists but you can still see part of my wrist so I still was afraid that somebody would notice. But nobody did at least nobody said anything about it.

I'm glad that nobody did say anything. I don't want anyone's help. It's much to late for that. No doctor can help me. No friend or family member can help me. Nobody will ever be able to help me.

Have you ever felt it? The feeling that you have lost control over yourself. That you not only cannot change what you feel but you also can't change what you say or do. I Feel it. I've been feeling it for awhile now. I'm sixteen years old, I've been cutting myself since I was fourteen and I have ever since then been trying to act like I was in control of it. But I'm not. I lost control and it's one of the most painful, scary feelings in the world.

I wish that I would have been smart and told somebody awhile ago how I felt. But I can't know. I can't tell so no one knows. Not that anyone I know would actually care. I would probably be sent to see a physiatrist or something. He or she would talk to me about my feelings. They would try to find out what was causing me to cut myself. In one way I'm almost glad that it is too late for that. I don't want to talk to a doctor. That will just make me feel even more crazy then I already feel. And I feel crazy enough.

I got home from school today and sat down examining all of my cuts. There were so many cuts, so many scars. I had given myself more cuts this past year and a half than I had gotten in my entire life. I didn't think much of that before but I am now. I have done permanent damage to my body physically, mentally, and emotionally.

I was just feeling sorry for myself because I get ignored in school and at home so I abused myself. Well I hate myself. I don't feel sorry for myself. How could I? How could anyone feel sorry for someone as stupid and pathetic as me. They can't and they don't. Well I've decided something today. I'm done with myself.

Somehow I ended up on the bridge two towns away from my house. It was late at night and it was raining. It had been raining a lot lately. I was standing by the edge of it looking down into the river not far below. I wasn't even thinking properly. I felt in a daze like I was lost. I knew that I was here but I was so out of it that I didn't know how I actually got here. I was confused and scared more so than I have ever been before.

When you are upset and I don't mean a little upset I mean actual suicidal hate my life want it to end upset nothing makes sense to you. The only thing that makes sense is the thought of killing yourself to make it go away. But most people who are suicidal don't really know that they want to live until they are actually trying to kill themselves. That's when it usually clicks. But by then it may be to late.

I didn't even think about it afterwards but was it an accident that I didn't cut myself deep enough. That something inside of me was trying to reace me trying to tell me that I shouldn't be doing it. That deep down inside I didn't want to die. I didn't stop and think about it. Instead I thought about my horrible life and everything bad in it.

I let the demons inside of me loose and they made me hate myself and my life. They made me cut myself for almost two years. They made me try to open my wrist. They led me all the way to this bridge and our now trying to help me jump off of it and I may just listen to them.

I was now climbing over the edge of the bridge. I was about to end my life at sixteen. I was standing soaked in the rain loosening my grip on the edge of the bride. If I just let go I could fall and would into the water and would hit the rocks on the bottom killing me almost instantly. Whatever deep down inside that was supposed to click and tell me that I didn't want to do this hadn't.

Then suddenly I felt like someone was standing behind me. I didn't know how it was but I wasn't about to let that person stop me. It was too late for that. It was much too late. I was about to let go when suddenly whoever was standing behind me placed a hand on my shoulder.

The rest of this chapter is going to take place in the present and not the past.

I turned around to see how it was. I stared hard at the person standing right behind me. He held a expression on his face that looked so familiar. It only took another second to realize that expression. He was scared and confused just like me. But why would he look like that unless... unless he was scared because he cared for me. He had always paid attention and had always cared.

"Gordo," I asked him. "How did you know that I was here." "You weren't answering your phone and I was worried about you." "I saw your wrists at school today." "Lizzie I was afraid that you may actually be trying to kill yourself." "I, I guess I was right," he said.

Suddenly it clicked. I didn't want to die. Just by showing up here Gordo had shown me that. "Thank you," I said to him. "You made it click." "I made what click," he asked looking confused. "You... never mind," I said. "Gordo help me back over." "The edge of the bridge is slippery and I'm afraid that I might fall."

"Okay." Gordo started to help me over back the bridge. Suddenly I lost my balance and started to fall. Gordo tried to grab me but couldn't. I was going to fall and hit the river whether I liked it or not. There were tons of large sharp rocks sticking out of the river. People teenagers and adults as well have jumped into this river and not one of them lived. Some died instantly others died after minutes or hours and some very few though had actually made it to hospitals but they had all died. Every one of them.

I if I realized that I wanted to live a while ago I would have lived but now it was too late. I was falling falling fast. I was about to hit the river. I was about to die. Nothing that I could wish would change that.


	7. Avoid

Thanks for the reviews. Tell me if you think that this should be an LG fanfic or not I'm still not sure.

Avoid

"LIZZIE," Gordo screamed.

I was falling off the bridge. I was falling and it was all because of my stupidity. But it didn't matter the only person who card was Gordo and no matter how hard Gordo tried he couldn't help me. No one could.

I fell and landed on something hard. It was a large round rock sticking out of the water. It hurt like hell but I was still alive and that was all that mattered. At least that's what I tried to convince myself.

"Lizzie," Gordo said kneeling beside me his eyes filled with fear. "Are you ok?" "Can you move?" I nodded slowly.

"I'm ok," I answered.

Gordo helped me up on my feet. He stared at me hard. He looked like he was going to faint.

"Lizzie?" He asked softly. Are you sure you're ok?

"Yeah Gordo I feel fine."

He stared at the ground looking uncomfortable.

"Lizzie," he finally spoke up after what seemed like forever. "I didn't mean it that way."

"I mean Lizzie your wrist is cut and if that isn't enough you looked like you were about to jump off the bridge before I came."

"Lizzie," he said. "I want to know what's wrong."

He started to cry a little something I had never seen him do before.

"I care about you and I want to help you Lizzie speak to me tell me what's wrong."

I stared at him for a moment. Part of me wanted to open up to him about my pain to accept his sympathy and to let him help me get better. But another part of me seriously doubted that he could do that.

"Lizzie," He started again but I ran away from him.

He wasn't ignoring me like others. He was trying to be a good friend to help to show how he cared and what did I do. I ran away from him almost scared at the thought of opening up to him and letting him help.

I got home and ran to my room. I thought I was going crazy. I didn't understand I didn't want to die but I didn't want to live. I had wanted attention but when someone tried to give me some I turned away from it. I was so scared and confused. I knew that I wasn't in control. I needed Gordo's help I couldn't deal with my pain on me own. But I s too scared to accept or ask for help from Gordo or anyone else.

I shut the phone off that night. Gordo called me thirty-seven times and rang my doorbell twelve times. I refused to talk. I was grateful that he hadn't told his parents or anyone else about my problem but still he wouldn't stop. The next day at school he stopped me in the hall towards the beginning of the day demanding we talk.

I'm fine Gordo I insisted. I'm going to be late for class.

"Who gives a shit about class," Gordo snapped at me in a tone of voice nothing like his usual voice. "YOU TRY TO FRIGGEN KILL YOURSELF AND WHEN I TRY TO HELP YOU YOU FRGGIN TAKE OFF ON ME," he said shouting.

I stared at him speechless.

He sighed. "I'm sorry about that but look I'm just upset your really scaring me Lizzie."

I didn't answerer. I just turned and walked to class.

"Lizzie," he called after me. "Lizzie please stop."

I broke into a run. I ran up the stairs to my next class. I tripped halfway up the stairs dropping my books on the steps. I picked them up and continued running until I got to class.

I didn't go to lunch that day. I had several classes with him though in which I couldn't get out of.

As soon as school was over I hurried home taking a different route than usual. I got home and ran upstairs to me bedroom. I made sure that every phone in the house was off and I turned off the computer. I wasn't in the mood to deal with him bothering me. I had decided that although I wasn't going to kill myself that I wasn't going to accept his help. I wasn't going to accept anyone's help.

I opened up my night table drawer and looked longingly at the used razor in it. I picked it up and ran my finger over the blade. I cut my finger a little but I didn't care. Without even thinking I put it toward my leg and pressed in hard. Blood once again poured from the side of my leg. I stung of course but it felt great. I knew that it wasn't really helping me it was just a horrible habit that I had long ago lost control of but at the moment I didn't care.

I cleaned up the cut and went downstairs looking for something to eat. I was boiling hotdogs on the stove when the doorbell rang. I ignored it but he was so persistent. After he rang the doorbell at least forty or fifty times I opened the door for him. He stood on my front steps looking angry.

"Lizzie we have to talk," he said still looking angry.

"No we don't," I told him. "I'm not going to kill myself," I promised him.

"Because if I was," I continued "it would have already happened instead of asking you to help me back over the bridge I would have just jumped."

"Gordo I'm fine now don't worry about it."

"Lizzie..." he started but I slammed the door in his face.

Instead of ringing the doorbell again he left. He didn't bother me again for the rest of the night.

I thought that I wanted him to leave me alone but part of me was actually a little mad that he didn't ring me doorbell or phone anymore.

I guess its true though when people avoid help is usually when the need it the most. I knew that I needed help. I knew that that all it took was one more downfall one more really bad thing to make me become suicidal again. I wanted help but I was avoiding it because I was scared I was so scared of asking for the help that I so desperately needed.


	8. Pain

Pain

I groaned as I got out of bed. My stomach still hurt where I had fallen. It hurt badly. To make maters worse I had been avoiding Gordo all week. I had to move fast in order to get away from him and the faster I moved the more it hurt. Know not only was there emotional pain but there was physical pain as well.

Not only did my stomach hurt but my arms and legs hurt too. I was cutting deep drawing large amounts of blood with every cut. I was starting to run out of places on my arms and legs to cut so I've started cutting my feet more often. Now thanks to the cuts I can't run and just walking causes so much pain.

Gordo still hasn't given up. I'm pretty sure that he knows about the cuts although he hasn't said anything about them. Thankfully the summer is coming up and since Gordo's parents are divorced and his dad lives two states away according to the custody arrangements Gordo spends every other holiday and summer with his father.

Gordo stopped me again in school today. I can't run or walk fast like before because of my cuts so I was stuck talking to him. He was angry and threatened to tell his mom about the bridge and my wrists. I caved not wanting him to tell her so I promised to meet him at the Digital Bean tomorrow. I am dreading meeting him there.

"Hi Lizzie," Gordo said as we sat down at our table. He calmly looked at me. "Are you ok because you're still avoiding me?"

I stared at the ground not sure what to say.

"Lizzie I didn't want to go ahead and do anything without you knowing about it first but I do have to talk to somebody about this." "I'm not going to discuss it here because a lot of kids from school hang out here and I'm sure that you don't want them to know." "I...

"No Gordo," I shouted cutting him off as I jumped to my feet drawing attention to us. "You promised that if I met you here and I talked to you that you would keep this between us." "You lied to me and I hate you for it."

With that I grabbed my purse and hurried out trying hard to ignore the stares and low whispers that I heard from others who had gotten wind of our conversation.

I hurried home. By the time I got there me feet were killing me. I pulled off my sneakers and sure enough several of my cuts were bleeding again. Badly. I wet a cloth and put it to my feet to stop the bleeding. My stomach still hurt from where I fell. I sat at the kitchen table trying to hold in the pain. The urge I had to cut myself was back. I knew that it wouldn't help so I held it in as best I could.

I got up and decided to take a walk. My feet still hurt but I didn't care. I walked toward the bridge I had fallen from just a few days ago. I walked down and sat on the rock I had fallen on. I couldn't believe that I had actually fallen and lived but somehow I did. I guess I'm supposed to be happy but I'm not.

I stayed at the bridge till night. It started to rain so not wanting to stay in the rain I started to get up. Suddenly I felt like someone was watching me. I turned around and saw Gordo standing a few feet behind me. I stared at him. He looked like he didn't know whether to cry or yell at me. Instead he started talking to me very calmly I might add.

"Lizzie," he said. "Please just talk to me let me help."

"You probably think that I'm crazy don't you?" "Well I wouldn't blame you I think I'm crazy too," I said to him still trying to hold in my pain.

Obviously Gordo could sense it.

"Lizzie please don't try to hold this in you can't." "I don't think your crazy and you shouldn't either but crazy or not you do need help."

I looked at him tears beginning to pour over.

"That's good," Gordo said. "Let the pain out."

He reached over and pulled me into his arms. We sat down on the rock holding each other tightly. Tears spilled over tears that I had held in for so very long. I cried in Gordo's arms cried hard harder than I had ever cried before.

I realized now that I could receive the help that I need if I let people help. I was scared though scared of getting help. But I was more scared of myself. Of hurting myself anymore than I already have.

"I don't hate you," I said through tears.

"I know," Gordo said softly.

Suddenly I pulled myself away from Gordo. I stared at him for the longest time. Then suddenly I started moving towards him. I leaned in and kissed him.

After about a minute or so I finally pulled away from him. I stared at him for a long time again.

"What just happened?" He asked me looking sort of confused.

"I kissed you," I said. "Why did it bother you?" I asked feeling nervous.

"No," Gordo said quickly. "I didn't it just took me by surprise."

"Well I don't even know why I did that but it kind of felt good." "Did you feel anything because I did."

He didn't answerer. Instead Gordo leaned in towards me and kissed me back. When he drew back I stared at him feeling light headed.

"Was that a yes or a no?"

"Of course it was a yes." "Lizzie I have always cared for you." "I guess that I was just to afraid to show it."

Gordo put his arms around me. I leaned in towards him resting my head on his shoulder tears beginning to fall again. We stayed that way for a long time.


	9. Feeling good

Thanks for the reviews. They were a big help in deciding whether it should be LG or not. By the way thanks for the tip Jersey Princess. I'll try to keep that tip in mind the next time I add the quotation marks.

Feeling good

Riiinng my alarm clock interrupted my sound sleep. I reached over and turned it off. I got out of bed and walked to the bathroom. I turned on the water and adjusted the temperature. I pulled off my nightgown and stepped slowly into the shower.

I stood there lukewarm water pouring down on me. I stared over at the soap dish. On it was a razor. It was lying there were it belonged. In the bathroom not hidden in a bedroom drawer like a weapon. It was for shaving not cutting. I knew that now.

I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around myself. I went back to my bedroom. I put on a new pair of jeans and a pink designer blouse with long sleeves. I put on a pair of sneakers. Then I added jewelry and makeup and brushed my hair out so I could wear it down. I checked myself over not once but twice in the mirror to make sure that I looked okay.

It was the first time in two years that I actually fussed with the way that I looked. But yesterday after Gordo walked me home from the bridge I decided that I was done with being unhappy. I was going to talk to Gordo's mother tomorrow. She made a quick opening since Gordo and I are close. When I went there I was going to talk to her and let her help not push her away like I did with her son.

And speaking of him Gordo asked me out for this coming Friday. I couldn't believe it. I haven't been out on a date since the summer before high school started. Well now I'm going on one again and I'm so excited. I haven't felt excitement like this in a while.

I walked to school feeling better. Its funny how when it comes to something large that many people have an opinion on one opinion doesn't seem to matter but when it comes to a small situation like something that concerns only one persons life sometimes all you need is one persons opinion to matter. In my case I needed Gordo's opinion and I now have it.

Of course I'm still very upset. And I'm also very worried. I'm worried about what my moms going to think when she finds out that I'm a cutter. Or that I attempted suicide twice. Gordo's mom was very understanding but of course I'm not her child. Besides she's a doctor she has other patients that I'm sure are probably ten times worse than I am.

I am afraid that my mother will probably think that I'm crazy. How am I supposed to convince her that I'm not crazy when I'm not even sure that I'm not? Gordo keeps telling me that I'm not but I'm still not totally convinced.

I pushed those thought away as I neared the school. I walked up to the building and headed in. I went to my locker and then hurried so that I wouldn't be late for homeroom.

I walked into the classroom and took my seat towards the back of the room. I was leaning over trying to fish a pen out of my backpack when I could feel it. Eyes all staring at me.

"Lizzie," Johnson said. "You look hot."

That felt good. Johnson who sat in front of me during homeroom and across from me in science had never seemed to notice me before. And now he was telling me that I looked hot.

Other kids from class walked up to me and complimented me too. They all never seemed to notice me before but they obviously did now. It felt really good to for once actually be noticed. To actually be liked and admired.

The day went by quickly. At lunch I sat with Gordo and a few of his friends. They were all nice and talked to me. The other students were being really nice to me as well. No one ignored or made fun of me. It actually turned out to be a good day after all.

Gordo and I both walked home together. We hung around at my house talking and joking around basically trying to catch up on the past few years. He had promised to stay there to give me encouragement for when my mom came home. I knew that once she was home that I would have no other choice but to show her my scars.

A little while later we had run out of things to talk about. Or that's what I thought. We had one other thing to discuss.

"Gordo," I asked. "What happened to us?"

"What do you mean?" He asked back staring at me.

"I mean why did we stop being friends. What made that happen? We used to be so close and then we just stopped spending time together."

"Lizzie do you remember when Miranda stole your diary?"

"Yes I do Gordo thank you very much for reminding me."

"Well you had your whole reputation crushed. You keep trying to fit in get people to like you. Well I got tired of that and we began spending less time together. Soon after we kind of just drifted apart."

"Gordo you were always tired of me trying to fit in," I said smiling at him.

He smiled back. "Yeah but you were going overboard with it. More so than usual."

"Hey," I said snatching a pillow off the couch and throwing it at him. "I so didn't go overboard."

"Oh yes you did," he said laughing. He picked up the pillow and threw it back at me.

We both started laughing at the moment seeming to forget the situation. After a few minutes our laughter quieted down. Eventually we were both silent.

"You know," Gordo said breaking the silence. "Miranda turned on me too."

I looked at him and nodded.

"What can we do she's a bitch."

"I know," Gordo agreed.

Gordo and I spent the next few hours talking as we waited for my mom get home. It took my mind of the conversation we were going to have. I wondered would she think that I was crazy. Or would she understand and be sympathetic. Or who knows maybe she wouldn't care at all. I would have to wait and see.


	10. Letting it go

Letting it go.

Some people find it really hard to let things go. Others can easily do so. Some are right in the middle. I never really have been able to let things go easily before but I guess I have to now.

My father and brother are gone and my mother doesn't care about me anymore. She refuses to even pay for me to see a doctor she didn't even talk to me about my problem. I'm still seeing Dr. Gordon though. She has been a huge help but she's not the tipe of doctor that I should be talking to. Most of her patients are people with as she puts it mental problems. In my opinion there all crazy.

But the kind of doctor that she wants me too see is a psychologist which apparently handles patients with emotional problems. I don't know about that but it does make me feel better to know that she dosen't think that I'm crazy.

Gordo has also been a huge help. He was always a great friend and is now a great boyfriend. He really cares for me and I really care for him. I sometimes feel like I might even love him.

I have made good friends and I'm getting involved in sports as well as both the school talent and the school fashion show. With the help of Gordo I'm starting to get my life back into order.

As for Miranda and me we had a good friendship and know its gone. We aren't going to become friends again or even be civil. Same thing for me and Kate and Claire. But that's ok I have plenty of closer true friends know.

I woke up today feeling calm and relaxed. I got out of bed ad got ready for school.

Gordo waited for me outside prepared to walk me too school.

"Ready to go," he said smiling.

Ready, I said smiling as I shut the door behind me.

I was ready for much more than to go to school. I was finally ready to let it go.

THE END.


End file.
